


Battle of the Senses

by aelin_and_feyre



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Fluff, Nightmare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-20 10:16:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14258811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aelin_and_feyre/pseuds/aelin_and_feyre
Summary: Requested by Anonymous: Aelin has a nightmare about the coffin and Rowan comforts her





	Battle of the Senses

Never had Aelin hated a sound more than iron sliding against iron. The grating noise and corresponding vibration had awoken her for the weeks she was kept captive in Wendlyn, when they would decide it was time to torture her again. Never had Aelin despised a smell more than that of iron rusting under the constant applicant of fresh blood. The tangy, gruesome scent making her want to plug her nose forever that she might never be subjected to it again.

Never had Aelin loathed a feeling more than one of blood stuck under her fingernails and matted in her hair. Constantly, she would be scrubbing her hands raw and double washing her hair just to make sure they were always clean. Never had Aelin abhorred something as much as the taste of dirt, blood, and sand as it coated her tongue and teeth when she was denied water before being shoved back into that infernal coffin. But nothing did Aelin Galathynius detest more than darkness.

Each of these things, however, overwhelmed her senses at night, when she would curl up in bed, months after being rescued from Wendlyn. She tried very hard not to make Rowan aware of this fact, but sometimes, it got to be too much.

Aelin had been running her nails down his back in her sleep, that’s what had made Rowan aware of her nightmare. He awoke with a start, confused by the incessant clawing down his back and the faint murmuring in his ear. Aelin was thrashing, mumbling incoherently, attempting to spit, scrunching her nose, and struggling to open her eyes. Quickly, Rowan went on full alert, disentangling himself from her vicious hold and straddling her waist to get her to stop moving in case she managed to fall off the bed.

He cupped her face in his hands, stroking away the tears that had begun to fall. “Aelin,” He said softly, attempting not to startle her awake. “Aelin, wake up, it’s okay.” He commanded, sliding his hands to her shoulders and shaking slightly. Fire erupted along her fingertips as she continued to scratch his forearms now. Rowan didn’t feel a thing. “Aelin, you’re home, you’re safe.” He tried again, and he could tell he was getting through a little bit by the way her brow creased, as if confused by his statement.

He released her shoulders and laced his fingers with hers, pinning her hands beside her head. Rowan leaned down and began to brush soft kisses along her face. “I’m here,” He whispered against her eyelids. “You’re here,” His lips danced down her jaw, “My mate,” Her nose, “My love,” Her cheekbones, “My wife,” Her neck, “My Fireheart.” And as Rowan’s lips finally landed on Aelin’s own, she began to kiss him back.

Her hands tightened, gripping his own fiercely, as if assuring herself that this was real. When Rowan pulled away, the queen’s eyes were open, wide and fearful. “Rowan?” She asked, letting go of his hands to cup his face. She ran them down his chest and around his back and through his hair. Tears continued to stream down her cheeks and the male quickly scooped her up in his arms and switched their positions so she was cradled in his lap.

“I’m here, love, I’m here,” He repeated, holding her tightly as her hands continued to roam his body. She stuck her nose in the crook of his neck and breathed deeply, attempting to calm herself down. Aelin immediately relaxed at the familiar scent of pine and snow mixed with her own. It blocked out the horrid smell of iron still coasting through her memory.

She shuddered at the thought, causing Rowan’s arms to constrict and pull her even closer to her chest. “It was so horrible, Rowan.” She finally said when she had caught her breath enough.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked hesitantly, never sure what reaction that question will elicit. In response, Aelin buried her face in Rowan’s shirtless chest, and then immediately pulled away.

“I hate the darkness.” She abruptly said. Rowan sent a draft around the room, forcing the drawn curtains open and allowing the soft light of morning to enter their room. A soft smile is placed on Aelin’s lips at the gesture. Rowan’s fingers dragged through her hair, assuring her that there was no dried blood there. “I missed you so much.”

“Every second,” He agreed, the sound of his calm voice like a soft caress over her ears as his lips grazed the shell of them, thoroughly banishing any remaining memory of iron against iron.

“I don’t want to go back,” Aelin confessed, letting her forehead fall to his chest again. His hands brushed down her back, careful to avoid the still healing scars.

A kiss was placed on the crown of her head. “Never again will you be trapped like that, not while I’m alive.” He promised, then lifted her chin so she was looking at him. “She’s dead. I love you and I will protect you, to whatever end.”

Warmth and love filled Aelin’s chest and she surged for him, attacking his lips with her own. He welcomed her kiss, biting down on her lower lip softly in question. She immediately opened up for him, allowing the taste and feel of his tongue sweeping through her mouth to eliminate the aftertaste of blood and dirt. Her hands once again ran through his hair, pulling him to her with desperate need until she finally had to break away to breathe.

“I will always be here to drive the nightmares away, Fireheart.” Rowan vowed, tucking her head under his chin and wrapping his arms around her once more.

Aelin smiled against his chest, almost forgetting what the nightmare was about anyway. “Thank you, Rowan. I love you too. To whatever end.”


End file.
